


mentira

by bfundertale



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Detective C. C. Tinsley, Detectives, Italian Mafia, M/M, Murder, Serial Killer Ricky Goldsworth, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25145869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bfundertale/pseuds/bfundertale
Summary: c.c. tinsley is sent to los angeles solve the case of the aquila killer. He chases the man for months, not knowing he was standing in front of him the entire time
Relationships: Ricky Goldsworth & C.C. Tinsley, Ricky Goldsworth/C. C. Tinsley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	mentira

The radio booms through the car, the sound bouncing around the walls of the car like a kid in a bouncy castle. A familiar tune ringing in his ears when he sees the welcome sign to his future hell. Welcome to Los Angeles. A serial killer on the run. Tinsley was informed this serial killer is called the aquila killer. A killer with fast and swift movements that are hard to capture. Going after his prey quickly and unnoticed 

His victims seem to have no pattern, but they all ended with the same fate. His heart tightens at the thought of a man with a wife and kids lying dead in the river their eyes cold like the winter, their eyes looking up into the sky as if looking for something. Maybe mercy for one last time until they meet death face to face. 

He turns the radio off to listen to the cars driving by, watching the smoke rise up and melt into the sky. The cars roaring like lions fighting for the last antelope. The sunlight reflecting on the multicoloured metal of the cars. 

The closer the male approaches the central the more the cars pile up on one another. Car horns shouting at one another left and right, the sound circling around him. Tinsley turns the radio back to hear a familiar tune coming from the box shaped radio. The guitar chords echoing through the car. He looks out of the window and smiles at the memories the song gives him. Christmas mornings and family board games. 

He sees the police department appearing in the distance, the brown building standing about 3 floors tall. It was small, smaller then expected. The arch windows scattered along the walls and a big 2-door entrance glued at the front of the building. 

He parks at the small employee parking lot at the right hand side of the building. He twists the key and the lion at the front of the car stops growling and is put to rest. Tinsley closes his eyes, He imagines the bodies. The countless bodies that all met the aquila face to face and perished like medusa turning every man she makes eye contact with to turn into stone. He shudders at the thought.

He quickly realizes he has been sitting in his car with his eyes closed like a weirdo. He opens his eyes and grabs the box of goodies. His mugs and books were one of the only thing he brought with him on his travels through the country.

Tinsley slams the car door shut and he starts walking towards the small building. Walking through the doors, he felt like he had started a new chapter, a new crime to solve.  
As soon as the detective pulls open the heavy oak doors he is met with the sound of the typewriters and people laughing and talking like they’re in a restaurant. Cut-outs of newspapers are hung up on a corkboard with red strings connecting them. It’s like he walked straight into a cliché crime movie.

Desk were scattered in the big room. There were big, chunky typewriters, paper, newspapers and mugs decorating every desk. 

When Tinsley arrived in the common room he was met with a cozy area. 3 leather couches surrounded a small coffee table. A kettle was sat on a counter with cupboard above it, presumably for mugs. The filters were stacked on the counter, and teabags sat comfortably in a little box.  
,, Hey there bud ‘’ Tinsley turned to see whom the voice belonged to. He was greeted by a large, heavyset man standing by one of the couches 

He has an almost comically big moustache and a white beard that reached his upper neck. He wore a dark blue suit, a white dress shirt with dark blue polka dots and a navy tie. A top hat is balanced on the side of his surprisingly shiny bald head. He looks like he walked straight out of a cartoon. 

“You must be C.C. Tinsley” The man says with a toothy grin. His Texan accent becoming very clear. “I’m Banjo, Banjo McClintock”. Even his name sounds like a cartoon character. 

He reminded Tinsley of wellington Wimpy, with a very large moustache and as a police officer in polka dot suits. 

Banjo sat down on one of the couches and Tinsley followed. 

“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush here” Banjo’s smile dropped into a stern demeanour. He put his hand on Tinsley’s shoulder and stared into his eyes like he was trying to read Tinsley’s mind. 

“The aquila is not a simple task, bud” Tinsley hums, Banjo continued. “He has no pattern. He kills like it’s a night out on the town. Simply killing anyone that crosses his path.” Banjo pauses to look at the bodies working at the desks, chatting and drinking coffee out of paper cups. Tinsley follows his movement. 

“All of these educated people” Banjo turns to Tinsley with what seems to be fire in his eyes. “And we were all outsmarted by a single man. A single fucking man” He pulled a handkerchief out of his suit pocket and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Tinsley felt comfortable knowing he’s working with people that actually care about their job. 

Tinsley rested his hand on Banjo’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes reassuringly. 

“I’m sure we’ll figure this thing out. I’ll grab him by the tail and make fall, I’m sure of it”. Banjo laughed. “You’re laughing in the face of the devil, you know that?”. Tinsley smiled.

“Well then” Banjo pushed himself up from the couch, Tinsley followed. “Let’s get you to you very own office, eh?”. They walked through the busy office and ended up in front of a brown and rusty door that seemed to be the entrance of the place he’s going to be a lot the next couple weeks. 

Banjo opened the door. Tinsley thanked him before walking through the rusty door opening.

The room was painted a light brown. The walls were covered with movie posters and newspaper cut-outs. A clock hung from the wall. A desk was placed at the back of the room, facing the wall. A big arch window the streets. Plants we scattered all along the office and a little watering can was placed on the desk, presumably by the previous owner. 

“Here ya go C.C, your own space. Take your time unpacking. I’m sure you don’t want a stressful fist day, I’m sure” Banjo smiled his toothy grin yet again and closed the door behind Tinsley and made him alone in the office.

The rest of the workday was filled with gathering information from co-workers about this so-called aquila killer. Which was not a lot. 

The witnesses, pf which there weren't many, described the man as a short man with a long coat and a flat cap. Tinsley knew this was useless. Everyone looked like that in this town. 

And with that information in mind he drove to his tiny hotel room which will be his estate fpr the next couple of months. Not the best that he’s had but not the worst either.

When he arrived he was immediately met with the musty smell of the dark oak lingering in the room. He three his small suitcase on the bed and forced himself to go shower.  
The hot water hit his back like a boxer at a boxing match. Tinsley felt lightheaded as the shower filled with steam. He was so tired. But he managed to keep his eyes open for long enough to last the entire shower.

When Tinsley flopped onto the bed, he felt his feet dangle off the bed. He has always been too tall for hotel beds. As he quickly drifts to sleep he promises to himself that he will crack this case. Even if he has to give up everything for it.

* * *

The sun burns the back of his eye when he sees the sun knocking on the windows asking to come in. Tinsley groans when he sits up. His back felt like it was made of wood, the pain was killing him but he decided to ignore it.

Ring ring

The hotel telephone shouted at him, he forced himself to answer the phone.

When he picked up a bubbly voice echoed through the phone and danced around in his head.

“Good morning Mr. Tinsley, I’m Filip Morgan but you can call me mayor” Tinsley wanted to ask the man why he was being called but the mayor continued.

“I’m calling because there’s someone that wants to see you, a welcoming gift if you will” The mayor paused for a second, expecting an objection.

“That’s kind, will I be visited or do I need to visit this man myself?” The mayor giggled.

“I’ll pick you up from your estate Mr. Tinsley worry not” the mayor shuffled around for a bit. “I am on my way, I’ll be there in a few. Make sure you look your best!”. The bubbly man hung up and Tinsley was left stood by the phone stand, the horn loosely hanging in his hand. 

And before he knew it he was in a yellow beetle with a stumpy looking man with a thick black moustache. He wore a big black suit and a red dress shirt. The jacket being obviously too large for him. He seemed to be having a great day due to the big toothy grin plastered on his face.

“We’re almost there” The mayor announced from the drivers seat. Tinsley sat in the backseat his knees almost hitting his chin.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that” the mayor said, looking back at the very tall man that was folded up, he felt like if he sat here for longer then 5 minutes he would fold in on himself.

“We’re here Mr. Tinsley” A wave of relief washed over him. 

He felt his throat start to close in on itself the closer they walked towards the oversized mansion. 

The house was locked away in a wooded area. The gates stood tall to defend the house that stood behind it. The wood panelling on the mansion was rather cosy looking. It was almost like and oversized cottage. Windows stared at him the closer he walked through the well taken care of garden.

Though the house felt pretty, he felt the secrets buried in the soil. Anybody in their sane mind would know to stay away from it, but Tinsley gravitated towards the house like metal to a magnet. He wanted to burn the house and reveal it’s skeleton, the untold secrets that lie within. 

Tinsley stopped at what he assumed was the front door. The mayor stood beside him and knocked three times. He heard footsteps hurrying down from inside the house. 

The door was thrown open, a short male stood before him. His hair was tousled around in just the right way. He wore a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up enough to see his biceps. The male’s black eyes burned through his skull and left a mark in his brain. His features were soft but his gaze was fierce. Tinsley was mesmerized by the other male’s features that he didn’t even realize he was staring.

“You must be C.C. Tinsley” The man spoke like velvet, like sand falling through your hands. Tinsley’s name wrapped around the male’s tongue and tied it into a pretty little knot for later. 

“I’m Ricky, Ricky Goldsworth”


End file.
